Velvet Buzzsaw is an unwitting companion piece to the 2018 documentary, The Price of Everything. Examining the contemporary art market from the point of view of the artists, the dealers, the critics, and the peculiar buyers, the doc was as shocking in the prices it casually threw around and as were who and what determined which artwork was superior to all and what was banal. Dan Gilroy’s fictional version of the subject is both satire and horror, but covers similar themes. When a trove of unknown, but quickly declared phenomenal, artwork is discovered, the art world vultures (competitive dealers, a critic, an art advisor for the über-rich, etc…) collude to inflate mystique and prices and ensure they line their pockets at the expense of what the artist may or may not have wished. Therefore, should the audience pretend to feel bad for the victims when the art fights back?

The film’s beginning is frenetic to the point of hopelessness. Set at the Miami Beach Convention Center during the latest who’s who of modern art, the film’s six lead characters walk and talk at Aaron Sorkin speeds weaving their respective plot threads. This viewer could not find his footing fast enough to keep up with names, faces, and who means what to whom. The opening 10 minutes are a cram session filing characters and storylines where you believe they fit and then trying to catch the subtlety and hints you know you’re missing because you’re focusing too much on plot. Rack and stack the characters and you will notice there are the elite – the tastemakers – and then everybody else, including the artists who make this maelstrom possible.

Bobbing and weaving his way through the crowd, far too self-important to stop and acknowledge anyone, is Morf Vandewalt (Jake Gyllenhaal, Wildlife). Morf is the critic whose words will either propel an artist to millions or ensure a career change because of a written professional assassination. Morf can tell in an instant what is cutting edge and original and what is derivative – and the art world hangs on his every breath. Art gallery owner Rhodora Haze (Rene Russo, Thor: The Dark World) has a knack for knowing what Morf will trumpet and what he will shred. This talent earns Rhodora the aura of the most successful art dealer in Los Angeles who can turn a profit for her clients at will guaranteeing buyers with certainty which artworks will appreciate in value and which will collect dust through neglect. ​

Gilroy paints in shades of the real-world Vivienne Westwood in Rhodora’s character. She is a former punk rocker and anarchist turned puppet master who traded in leather and facial sneers for a bank account and a champagne glass. One of Rhodora’s gopher employees, Josephina (Zawe Ashton, Nocturnal Animals), happens upon a treasure trove of artwork in the apartment of her recently deceased neighbor, a reclusive old man named Vitril Dease. Dease explicitly ordered all his artwork to be destroyed upon his death, yet seeing dollar signs, Josephina transfers all of the art into her apartment and will generate a backstory, demand, and millions of dollars in Dease, who is now certified as an unknown genius just come to light. Morf is earnest when he says Dease is revelatory. There are indications Morf’s genuine critical eye can be influenced through biased outsiders, but when it comes to Dease, Morf is adamant this is the find of the decade. ​

Velvet Buzzsaw is a large, ensemble film, but Morf commands most of our attention. He critiques during foreplay, “Your skin is the most beautiful cross between almond and saddle brown,” he mocks the funeral arrangements for one of the earliest victims, and habitually defends his import toward art when both dealers and artists harangue him for nasty reviews – “I further the realm I analyze!” he screams. Morf is also the film’s most well-rounded and complex being. Other straphangers represent one-dimensional clichés of the industry. Rival art dealer Jon Dondon (Tom Sturridge, Journey's End) calls a pile of trash bags in an art studio “remarkable” before being told they are actually bags of trash. Toni Collette (xXx: Return of Xander Cage), playing a former museum director who decides it’s time she receive her share of the art world cash cow, demeans her former co-workers as irrelevant gnats as she strong-arms future art installation decisions based on what will give her billionaire employer the largest tax break.

Look beyond the bits of gore and couple buckets of blood and notice Gilroy has some things to say about the contemporary art world. First is the idea of a false economy. One can never prove a particular painting or sculpture is worth $10 million. People who purchase something like that are told it is worth that much and will be worth more in the future - it is an investment. The folks who tell the buyer that are stakeholders in the deal. Rhodora says, “We don’t sell durable goods, we peddle perception. Thin as a bubble.” The moment someone opts not to play the game and argue such and such isn’t worth a fortune, then it isn’t - these chrome spheres and balloon animals which the in-crowd says reflect society and the soul, are all built on a house of cards. ​

Notice how the film’s artists sit down and stare at Dease’s artwork - they know something more is going on than first meets the eye. Piers (John Malkovich, Mile 22), a blocked artist on his way down and Damrish (Daveed Diggs, Ferdinand), an underground artist on his way up, are dumbstruck at the work and absorb it differently than a dealer who glances at it and assures the unassuming of its power. Gilroy brought back a chunk of his cast from his first film, Nightcrawler - both his wife, Russo, and Gyllenhaal. Gyllenhaal’s Morf shares some overlap with his TV show host character in Okja, they are both slightly out of step with whatever room they’re in. It is also a more intriguing film and Gyllenhaal performance in the first half, as the vultures gather and peck apart the artwork before the eventual murders gain momentum and swirl into a violent round-robin climax. Any creative medium which takes itself too seriously is ripe for satire, but considering the money involved, the modern art world is riper than most. It’s about time the artwork finally gets a say in the matter. ​